


Killing The Minister

by HPTrio



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Rimming, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPTrio/pseuds/HPTrio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Junior Aurors, Harry and Ron take their undercover assignments quite seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing The Minister

**Author's Note:**

> If this particular pairing is not your personal cup of tea, please keep checking under my user name. I plan to archive all my work here and, while everything I've written is in the Harry Potter fandom, I write several different pairings; het, slash and multi.

“Bloody Hell!” 

Harry winced at Ron’s words, but reluctantly turned from staring out the window to face his best mate. “I swear, Ron, I’m going to bloody well kill Kingsley when this …” 

Harry’s words died in his throat when he saw Ron standing at the foot of the stairs. 

His mouth had gone completely dry, and his trousers had become unbearably tight. If he hadn’t already known he was gay, that moment would have convinced him. Ron looked like a wet dream come true. The navy shirt he wore was the perfect compliment to his ginger hair and freckled complexion, and it was made of some sort of soft mesh fabric that showcased his muscled chest to perfection. His faded denims clung in all the right places and were nearly Harry’s undoing.

“You look good, mate,” Ron said cheerfully. 

“Umm…” Harry struggled to un-stick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He grabbed the crotch of his way-too-tight black leather trousers and struggled in vain to shift himself so that the seam didn’t bite into the side of his prick quite so painfully. He hoped that he’d at least managed to hide the obviousness of his reaction to Ron’s appearance.

“C’mon and let’s get this over with,” Ron said as he thumbed through the case file they’d tossed on the table when they’d come home to change for their assignment. “Do you remember the name of that club Kingsley said we were going to first?”

Harry thought back to that morning in Kingsley’s office. He’d known he was in trouble the moment the Minister for Magic had begun to speak. 

“We don’t usually give special assignments to Junior Aurors,” he’d begun, “but this is a rather unique situation. The Muggle Prime Minister has asked for our help because they’ve had a rash of unexplained deaths. Fourteen young men about your age are dead, so far, with never even the slightest hint of a struggle, and all committed within several of their, err … clubs ... in the Soho area.”

Soho. 

Harry had been there a time or two since he and Ron joined the Aurors. He had known after his first kiss with Ginny that he was different. He’d blamed his lack enthusiasm after kissing Cho on the fact that she’d been crying over another wizard at the time. But he’d fancied himself in love with Ginny Weasley for months before their first kiss, and although it had seemed glorious at first, he quickly realized that feeling her breasts pressed rather intimately against him each time they snogged made him feel a little sick. He’d tried to find some kind way to tell her it just wasn’t going to work, but then Dumbledore had been killed and Harry had appreciated Ginny’s comforting presence, even if he didn’t enjoy her touch. 

As embarrassing as it was, Harry had actually been relieved when Ginny pulled back from their last shared kiss with a sigh and confronted him.

“It’s Ron you want, isn’t it, Harry?” 

When he couldn’t deny it, the tears had spilled from Ginny’s eyes and she’d stormed off toward the common room with Harry hot on her heels, terrified of what she might say when she got there. He almost felt he owed her a life debt when Hermione ran up to ask what was wrong and all Ginny said was “The git’s gone all noble and broke up with me because he thinks it will keep me safe from You-Know-Who” before running up the stairs to her room. 

Yeah, Harry owed her big time.

Then there was Soho. 

Harry had hoped if he went to some of the gay clubs in London, he might find some fit young bloke and get Ron out of his head once and for all. The clubs had been fun, and had certainly been full of fit and willing blokes. Even though he’d felt really awkward when the first guy asked him to dance, he’d found he really enjoyed being able to relax and be open about his sexual preferences. He’d been unbearably aroused with the knowledge that the men rubbing their bodies against him as they danced would be perfectly willing to have a go with him.

He finally said “yes” to one of those willing blokes on his third visit to Soho. He’d gone home with a guy he’d danced with several times on the previous trip, then again that night as well. The kissing was fantastic; much better than any of the few kisses he’d shared with girls. There had been no reason to rush things; the kissing lead to fully clothed frotting, and by the time the other man began to strip off, Harry was already on edge. His cock was leaking with eager anticipation. When the other man’s erection sprang free of his pants, pointing directly at Harry, Harry nearly came in his pants. He had shucked out of his own clothes so fast, he almost fell over trying to get his denims off over his trainers.

He’d been scared out of his wits when he lay back on the bed and watched as his new friend crawled toward him wearing nothing more than a hungry expression. Harry had thrust up so hard when he felt the man’s mouth surrounding his shaft that the poor bloke almost choked to death. After the man stopped coughing, he held Harry’s hips down and sucked him off with practiced ease. Harry ran his fingers through the man’s ginger hair and thought it was probably the best orgasm he’d ever had.

Using the back of his freckled hand to wipe a bit of Harry’s spunk from his chin, the man had smiled up at Harry sadly and shook his head. 

“You’re beautiful, and I really want you,” he’d said, “but you need to put your clothes on and go work things out with him.”

Harry was genuinely baffled. 

“What?”

“My name is Mark,” came the quiet reply. “You called me Ron when you came. Go back to him. I can’t be just a substitute for the man you really want.”

Harry decided after that night it would be best just to die a virgin. He knew he’d never get Ron out of his head. He didn’t want to. But he also knew he could never have Ron. Even after Ron broke up with Hermione, Harry had known it was hopeless. Straight blokes just didn’t fancy gay boys.

“…so you see, I really can’t give this assignment to anyone other than you two.” Harry’s thoughts snapped back to Kingsley’s words. “The seasoned Aurors are all too old to blend in with the clientele, and the pair of you are the only Junior Aurors with enough practical experience to handle the task. Hopefully, that’s all you’ll have to _handle_ while you’re there,” the Minister finished with a smirk. 

Ron’s face clearly showed his confusion until Harry explained. 

“He’s sending us to a gay club, Ron.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“HARRY!” Ron shouted. “Blimey, where has your mind gone, mate? If you’re this distracted when we get to that bloody club, we’ve no hope of spotting the killer before he gets someone else.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, struggling to meet Ron’s eye without ogling him. “I was just thinking about the last time I was in London.”

“Yeah, after the wedding,” Ron agreed with a shudder. 

Harry had never told Ron about his trips into the city on the rare occasions they’d been assigned different shifts at work. Even now, no one besides Ginny knew he fancied blokes unless you counted Mark, or the nameless strangers he’d seen in the clubs, but in Muggle London, he was just another guy. No one knew his name, and no one cared what got his prick hard. He preferred to keep it that way. Harry couldn’t bear to have his friends look at him the way Uncle Vernon looked at the gay couple that had moved in across the street on Privet Drive the summer after his fourth year at Hogwarts. ‘Freaks’ he’d called them, and ‘abnormal’ … some of the same words his aunt and uncle had used when talking about his parents - about anyone who could do magic.

“At least this time if someone tries to kill us, it won’t be someone with a wand,” Ron joked. Harry wondered if Ron really meant it would be a Muggle instead of a Death Eater, or if that had been a jab at gay men not really being men.

They’d only been at the club a few minutes when a tall blonde man approached them. His eyes traveled the length of Ron’s body before he smiled and said “Nice” then turned to look at Harry. “Haven’t we met?”

Harry searched his memory before replying that he didn’t think so, although he had a nagging suspicion the man might have been someone he’d danced with on his first venture into London’s gay scene. He silently cursed himself for not wearing a Glamour on those solo trips, although at the time, he certainly hadn’t expected to ever return with his best mate.

“I don’t usually forget a hot chap like you,” he said, practically leering at Harry by then. “No matter, can I buy you a drink?”

Harry was fairly sure then he was the guy he was thinking of. Pushy bloke. Harry hadn’t liked him very much the first time they’d met. 

“No thanks,” Harry said coolly. “We’re waiting for some friends.”

The guy had walked away reluctantly, but the two Aurors weren’t left alone for long. They were both pleasantly buzzed from all the alcohol they’d consumed whilst sitting at the bar, but the Sobriety Charm they'd cast on each other before leaving home kept them from actually being intoxicated. They'd been kept busy turning down the steady stream of blokes who’d chanced asking them to dance, and the one guy who’d actually been bold enough to approach Ron and ask if he fancied a trip to the loo for a quick shag. Harry’s fingers had itched to pull his wand and curse the man’s bits off at that point.

The barman banged two more mugs of ale down on the counter and leaned in to speak to them. Harry automatically reached for his wallet to pay the man, but instead of quoting the price of their drinks this time, he looked suspiciously between them and demanded, “What are you two blokes playing at anyway? I don’t want no trouble in here.”

“Trouble?” Ron asked indignantly. “We haven’t done anything!”

“Right,” said the barman. “That’s what bothers me. You’ve just sat here drinking and watching the crowd. You’ve turned down every offer that’s come your way, but you don’t act like you’re together either. Either you’re cops, or you’re up to no good.”

“We’re, umm…” Harry hesitated, not sure if he should tell the man why they were really there or not. He might appreciate the protection, but what if he was the killer?

“We’re together!” Ron exclaimed, to Harry’s surprise. “We’ve just had a long day at work and wanted to relax a bit before we hit the dance floor. C’mon, mate.” Ron grabbed Harry’s arm and lead him out toward the crowded dance floor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a little awkward at first, trying to dance with Ron. The music had shifted from something hopping to something slow and sensual at practically the same moment as they’d reached the floor. They’d come together cautiously, unsure of where to put their hands and how close to stand. Harry’s heart hammered in his chest as he felt Ron take his waist and he settled his own hands around Ron’s neck. They swayed to the music, trying to keep a respectable distance between their fronts without being too obvious about it. Harry hated how that distance made him feel; he wanted to lean into Ron and take advantage of the situation, to make a memory to keep him warm on the cold, lonely nights to come. But it made his heart ache too to see how careful Ron was being to not touch him too much; clearly the idea of being with another man was revolting to his friend.

Mercifully, the music shifted again after that first miserable tune. The fast songs weren’t so bad; they just gyrated to the beat of the music and took the mickey out of each other for their mutual lack of coordination. It was almost fun. Then a really gorgeous bloke dressed all in red leather sidled up to the pair of them. 

“Mind if I cut in?” he purred, then turned to Harry. “I’ll take Ginger off your hands if you don’t want him.”

Harry instinctively pulled Ron flush against his body and nearly growled at the man. 

“Bugger off, mate. He’s mine and I _do_ want him.” Given Harry’s tendency toward fits of uncontrolled magic when he was angry, it was a miracle the man’s hair hadn’t caught fire from the intensity of Harry’s glare.

When the man left, Harry immediately realized two things. He realized he’d just said out loud and in front of Ron that he wanted him. He also realized he could feel Ron’s cock pressed against his belly and it was hard and throbbing. Nervously, he looked up at his friend.

Ron’s expression was a bit gobsmacked, but he didn’t look angry.

“I, uhh, I thought it would b-be better if we d-didn’t get separated,” Harry stammered in an attempt to cover his slip up. 

Ron didn’t answer.

The music had turned slow again, and both men began to sway in time with the beat, neither seeming to recognize they still hadn’t pulled apart. Harry rested his head against Ron’s chest and breathed in his scent, thinking he should make the most of what he feared would be his one and only chance to be this close to Ron. Ron’s cock was still throbbing against his belly and he longed to grind himself against it, but he feared if he did, Ron might stop playing along with the illusion that they were together; just there to dance like all the other patrons. 

The idea that Ron was hard kept nagging at the logical side of Harry’s brain, but he supposed even a straight guy might get worked up watching the couples around them kiss and grope one another. It certainly had him worked up because it gave him all sorts of ideas about what he longed to do to Ron.

Several more songs played through with Harry’s brain in a sensual fog, his mind wandering freely to the places he wanted his body to go. At first, he wasn’t sure it was real when Ron slipped his hand under Harry’s silk shirt and began rubbing circles on his _bare_ back, but he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him.

Ron’s lips brushed a kiss against Harry’s hair, then moved lower so he could whisper in Harry’s ear. “Is this okay?”

Harry couldn’t help himself after that; he tangled his fingers in Ron’s hair and pulled him in for a real kiss, pressing his lips to his friend’s with a soft persistence that he hoped was both asking permission and proclaiming how much he wanted it. He knew Ron would hate him for it, unless maybe he could convince him later that he was just playing the part … helping them blend in ... but he had to risk it.

To Harry’s surprise, Ron played along, running his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip as if seeking entrance. When his lips parted, Ron thrust his tongue inside and practically devoured him. The kiss was hungry and frantic; their tongues tangled and their teeth clacked together almost painfully, but Harry was in paradise, even if only for the moment.

When the need to breathe finally forced the two Aurors apart, Ron pulled back and looked Harry directly in the eye. His face was flushed a spectacular Weasley red and he looked scared. Harry just _knew_ he’d ruined everything. He was about to apologize, to try to make up a good story about it being for the job, but Ron spoke first.

“Merlin, I’ve wanted to do that for so long! I know I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, Harry, but my brain just checked out when you said you wanted me. I wanted to believe it so badly, and I’m so sorry if I’ve ruined everything, or if I’ve disgusted you, but ….”

Harry cut him off by kissing him again, this time thrusting his tongue into Ron’s mouth without waiting for an invitation, and he raised up on his toes enough to grind his erection against Ron’s so there could be no question about how being kissed by Ron made him feel.

Ron bent his knees to keep Harry from having to stretch up and slid his hands down over Harry’s leather-covered arse, kneading his cheeks and groaning in appreciation. He rocked his hips slowly, sliding their cloth-covered lengths together and moaned into Harry’s mouth. 

When the kiss broke, Harry bent his head down to nip at one of Ron’s nipples through the soft mesh of his shirt, then he licked at the hardened nub to soothe it. The pair let their hands roam freely as their bodies swayed together, never even noticing as the tempo of the music changed. They were in their own little world, even when the music stopped entirely because the bar was closing for the night. Harry only noticed the silence when someone tapped him on the back.

“You and yer boyfriend need to take it home, mate,” the barman said. “I’m about to lock up. Sorry I accused you of being cops earlier.”

Harry pulled away from Ron, the pair of them looking a sight with their kiss-swollen lips and slightly embarrassed faces. Harry thanked the barman and slapped a £20 note on the polished countertop, even though he’d tipped each time he’d paid for their drinks.

Once out on the sidewalk, Harry pulled Ron into the first alley they came to and Apparated them directly into his bedroom. Once there, however, his insecurities crept in again. 

“Ron, I …”

Ron lunged at Harry, slamming his back against the wall and practically growling at him.

“Harry, if it was all an act, if it was all part of the job and you don’t _really_ want this, you better tell me now because I’ve wanted you a helluva long time and I’m going to have you now unless you stop me.” He rubbed against Harry with his whole body and went in for one last kiss, just in case.

When Ron pulled back to gauge Harry’s reaction now that they were out of the bar, Harry shoved him, hard, and stalked toward him looking menacing. The dim lights flickered, and Harry kept shoving Ron until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. Harry forced him down and climbed on top of him, sealing their mouths together again. He pulled back, gasping for air, to reply to Ron’s challenge. 

“You have no fucking idea how much I want this, how long I’ve wanted you. I was prepared to never be with anyone because I thought I’d never be able to have you. If you don’t mean this, if you were just caught up in where we were, who we were pretending to be, I need to know now. I can’t go back to being just your friend if we don’t stop now.”

Ron reached up and grabbed Harry’s shirt, ripping the sides apart and scattering the buttons. Harry closed his eyes, and a second later they were both naked. Ron grinned up at him. 

“You always were good at wandless magic.”

Harry laughed, then leaned down for another quick kiss before moving his mouth on to explore further. He nibbled his way along Ron’s jaw to his ear, kissing the soft spot behind it and grinning as Ron’s hair tickled his nose. He licked a trail down to Ron’s collar-bone and lingered there, breathing in Ron’s scent and reveling in the feel of Ron’s fingers absently stroking his back and caressing the back of his head.

When Harry reached Ron’s chest, he moved from side to side, nipping at the hard little buds then laving them with his tongue, trailing saliva between them as he went. Ron moaned and gasped at all the right moments, and Harry catalogued every response for future reference so he’d know what actions to repeat.

Harry kissed each rib separately, mapping the taut skin across Ron’s abdomen with his tongue. He paused to dip his tongue into Ron’s belly button before sliding lower, and he couldn’t help the “umm” sound he made when the soft skin surrounding Ron’s cock slipped along the side of his face.

“Harry, come up here, love,” Ron whispered softly. “Give me a chance to catch up.” He tugged gently on Harry’s hair, and reluctantly Harry abandoned his prize and moved back up to lay beside Ron.

Ron pushed Harry over on his back and covered his body with his own, hissing when their cocks brushed together. He lowered his weight onto Harry long enough for a bruising kiss, then began kissing and nipping all along Harry’s throat, pausing to suck at his Adam’s apple, then moved over to his collar-bone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He kissed his way down to Harry’s nipples and bit at one, then the other, making Harry swear and buck against him.

“Sorry,” Ron mumbled, but Harry shushed him.

“Do it more, harder. Feels good.” 

Ron alternated between sinking his teeth into Harry’s nipples and making him cry out, then caressing the tender nubs with his tongue to soothe the sting. He was about to move down to explore further, but Harry twisted out from under him suddenly and reversed their positions. He glanced up to Ron’s face to be sure he was watching as Harry took his cock into his mouth for the first time.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron swore as the wet heat of Harry’s mouth surrounded him. “That feels fucking incredible!”

Harry smiled around Ron’s bulk and began to bob his head up and down, licking and sucking, savoring the taste of the only man he’d ever wanted. Harry reached between Ron’s legs and cupped his sac, gently massaging and squeezing. When Ron began to tug at his hair again, warning that he was about to come, Harry pulled his mouth away and scooted a bit farther down the bed.

He slipped his hands behind Ron’s thighs, pushing them upward and outward, then lowered his face again. He licked all around the base of Ron’s cock, and then sucked a swollen testicle into his mouth, causing Ron to swear even more. He moved his mouth to the other testicle, licking and sucking until Ron was practically bouncing against Harry’s face.

Harry moved lower and gently pulled Ron’s cheeks apart with his thumbs, eliciting a surprised squeak from his mate. He licked along Ron’s perineum, then circled Ron’s hole with his tongue as he squeezed Ron’s arse cheeks with his hands. He inhaled deeply, savoring Ron’s musky scent and lapped at him hungrily.

“Fuck, Harry!” Ron swore. “Where’d you learn to do that?” He only paused half a second before he changed his mind. “Wait, no … I don’t want to know.”

Harry never missed a beat, no intention of stopping his ministrations to answer Ron’s question. His persistent tongue kept up its massage of the puckered flesh around Ron’s entrance until Ron was babbling incoherently and had relaxed enough so that Harry was able to push his tongue just a bit inside Ron’s tight channel. He reached up with one hand and grasped Ron’s cock, stroking it slowly as he feasted.

When Harry felt the cock in his hand begin to harden even more and pulse against his palm, he knew Ron was close. He abandoned Ron’s hole in favour of licking his way back across Ron’s balls and up the length of his shaft. He swirled his tongue around the head and dipped it into the slit, tasting the fluid there before sucking him into his hot mouth once again. Harry shifted on the bed to improve his angle and swallowed as much of Ron as he could, stopping only when the crown pressed into the back of his throat. He wrapped his hand around the base and squeezed gently, setting up a rhythm between hand and mouth that had Ron thrashing beneath him within seconds.

“Haaa-rrrrry,” Ron almost whined. “M’gonna …”

That was as far as Ron got before hot liquid flooded into Harry’s mouth and down his throat. His cock pulsed and twitched and he chanted reverently “ohgodharryohgodharry” over and over, feeling as if his orgasm might never end. Every time Harry swallowed around him, drinking him in, Ron seemed to come just a little bit more until his prick was so sensitive he had to beg Harry to stop.

Harry sat up and looked at him sheepishly, a bit of semen trickling from the corner of his mouth. He caught it with his index finger and stuck his finger in his mouth to lick it clean. Ron groaned. “Merlin, Harry, I think you’re gonna kill me!”

“Sorry,” Harry said, grinning so broadly it was obvious he was anything but sorry. “I’ve just wanted you for so long I couldn’t help myself. He stretched out beside Ron, content for the moment, even though he was still achingly hard.

“Just gimme a minute to catch my breath,” Ron said. “Then it’s your turn.”

“You don’t have to, Ron,”

“I know, but I want to do … something.” Ron’s voice trailed off as he considered whether he was really ready. He reached for Harry’s cock and began to stroke it. “I’m going to suck you, and then I … I want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“Oh God, Ron, you can’t imagine how much I want that, to be inside of you, to feel you wrapped around me so tightly we can’t tell where I end and you begin. But Ron, only if you truly want it, and only when you really feel ready for it.”

Ron swallowed hard, trying to squelch his fear. He did want it. He just wasn’t entirely certain he could handle it. For now, he rolled Harry over and kissed him, tasting his flavour in Harry’s mouth. He pulled away and turned, grabbing the base of Harry’s erection and pulling it away from his belly. He leaned in and began to lick all around the head as if it were a lolly while he pumped the shaft with his hand. He swirled his tongue first one way, then the other, and finally took the head completely into his mouth and sucked hard, causing Harry to lurch upward and swear loudly. Ron reached up with his free hand and pinched one of Harry’s nipples.

He sat up suddenly and looked down at Harry. “I want you inside me, Harry.” 

Harry scrambled up and rolled toward the bedside table, opening a drawer and fumbling inside for a moment. He procured a tube of lube, then crawled back to Ron.

“Are you sure?” he asked gently.

Ron nodded, then got on his hands and knees, presenting his arse to Harry. Harry couldn’t resist; he leaned in and nuzzled his nose against Ron’s perineum to lick at his dangling balls. Ron rested his face against the sheets, pushing his arse higher and spreading his knees farther apart to give Harry as much access as possible. Harry smiled appreciatively and moved higher, once again swirling his tongue around Ron’s hole. Ron moaned wantonly.

Harry licked for a few moments more, then got on his knees behind Ron and grabbed the lube. He squeezed some into his hand, then he hesitated.

“Ron, have you ever done this before?”

“N-no,” Ron answered, a bit too nervously for Harry’s liking.

“Ron, I don’t want to hurt you, and I…”

“You won’t.”

“I won’t on purpose, Ron, but I really don’t have any idea what I’m doing here. I mean, I know where I put my…” Harry vaguely waved his un-gelled hand at this crotch, then realized Ron couldn’t see the gesture. “I know what goes where, but it doesn’t seem like it should fit. I know it must, or else no one would bother to be gay, but …”

“Do it with your fingers first, Harry,” Ron coached. “Use one until I get comfortable with that, then add another one or two and stretch me.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Ron apparently knew what to do and slathered the lube that had warmed on his fingers between Ron’s cheeks and around his hole, massaging the rosebud with his fingertips.

“Ron?” Harry paused before pressing his finger into Ron, “If you haven’t done this before, how do you know all that?”

“Her-MI-o-ne,” Ron squeaked as Harry pushed through the tight ring of muscle, then paused to let him adjust. “She got me some books to read.”

Harry shuddered. He _really_ didn’t want to think about Hermione right at that moment, even though he dearly loved their other best friend. “Why on earth would Hermione give you books about gay sex?”

“It’s the real reason why we broke up,” Ron said, and Harry noticed the tips of his ears turning red. “I reckon she figured I might need them after about the fourth time I called her ‘Har-mione’ when I came. I tried, Harry, really I did. I always knew I was gay, but I hoped if I tried hard enough I could make myself be straight, too. I didn’t think I could have you, so I went after Hermione. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her. I did; I still do. I just never wanted her the same way I wanted you.”

“That’s why Ginny left me, too,” Harry said sympathetically.

“Harry,” Ron started, apprehension clear in his voice. “Ginny was only fifteen then. You and Ginny didn’t …”

“No!” Harry cut him off. “No, all we ever did was snog. We weren’t together long enough for anything more, and it wouldn’t have been right even if we were. I knew the first time I kissed her that she was the wrong Weasley for me.”

Harry carefully worked his finger into Ron as far as it would go. Ron had relaxed a bit during their little conversation, so Harry wasn’t too worried he would hurt him with just a finger. He smiled at the absurdity of the situation. How often did you have a chat with your finger up someone’s arse? But Ron was still incredibly tight; Harry had to bite his own lip to keep from whimpering at the clinging heat surrounding his invading digit. If Ron felt that good on his finger, Harry couldn’t wait to feel Ron’s passage hugging his cock. He stroked Ron’s lower back with the fingers of his free hand and whispered soothing words to help Ron stay relaxed while he gently wiggled his finger and pumped it very slowly in and out. Ron moaned appreciatively and Harry cautiously inserted a second finger, then a third, scissoring them in an effort to stretch Ron’s entrance a bit. He pumped his fingers slowly and Ron began to rock back against his hand. Soon he was panting with need and when Harry twisted his wrist just slightly, his fingertips brushed against … something … and Ron cried out.

“More, Harry. Please, I need more!”

Now Harry was nervous. 

He wanted this so very, very much. But he didn’t want Ron’s memory of their first time to be one of pain. He eased his fingers out of Ron, who whimpered at the sudden emptiness.

Harry squeezed more lube into his hand and rubbed it into Ron’s opening, then squeezed out more and slathered it onto his cock. He thought about using a lubrication charm, but somehow he didn’t want to confuse the magic of their first time actual magic.

“Turn over for me, Ron,” Harry said gently. “I want to see your face when I make love to you.”

Ron rolled onto his back and pulled his knees toward his chest. He spread his legs as far as they would go. 

“Now, Harry,” he begged.

Harry positioned the head of his cock against Ron’s opening and both men moaned in anticipation of what was to come. He grasped Ron’s thighs and pressed forward, but his cock slipped sideways and rubbed along the back of Ron’s thigh. 

“Hmm, not as easy as it sounds,” Harry mused and they both laughed.

Harry grasped his cock once more and lined it up again with Ron’s hole, holding it in place this time as he pushed inward, breeching Ron’s body.

“Shit!” Ron swore, feeling the sting in his arse at the same time he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He’d thought he was ready, but Harry was rather much larger than his fingers.

Harry froze. “Oh God, Ron, I’m sorry! Are you okay? Should I stop?” He sounded panicked.

“No, don’t move! Just … give me a second; I’ll be fine.”

Harry waited until Ron pushed his bum against him, then he gradually began to ease himself inside. He knew he couldn’t last long like this. Feeling the heat of Ron’s body as it stretched around him and sucked him inside was the most exquisite thing Harry had ever known. It was like Ron’s body was reforming itself to fit around him; _only_ him. Harry knew in that moment that if he were lucky enough that Ron would allow him to do this every day for the next hundred years, it would never be enough. When his balls finally brushed against Ron’s body, he groaned in pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he asked Ron gently.

Ron looked up at him, his expression hungry. “Harder, Harry.”

Harry didn’t have to be told twice. He pulled his hips back, sliding almost all the way out of Ron, then slammed back in. He leaned down and kissed his lover, then began to pump his hips with punishing force. He reached down and grasped Ron’s cock, which was well on its way to full hardness again, and began to stroke in time with his thrusts. It wasn’t long before he felt his balls fill and tighten.

“Come with me, Ron,” Harry pleaded. He changed his angle slightly and thrust again, striking Ron’s prostate and making him cry out. He battered Ron’s sweet spot relentlessly until Ron swore. Ron’s hole tightened around Harry’s cock as ropes of thick white come began to spurt between their bodies. The extra tightness stroking his length as Ron came tipped Harry over the edge and Harry roared as his release took him. He collapsed, panting on top of Ron, both of them sweaty and sated.

Kingsley’s head appeared in the fireplace just after Harry cast the cleaning charm over himself and Ron, causing the pair to jump apart in surprise in spite of their nakedness.

“Shit! The case, Harry … we should have gone on to another club when that first one closed. He’s going to kill us!” Ron hissed in a panicked rush.

The Minster’s voice boomed from the fire. 

“Your assignment is over gentlemen. The case is resolved. These unfortunate deaths were not the work of foul play, but a result of contaminated ale. It was discovered when another young lad took ill, but got to the hospital in time for treatment.”

Ron breathed a sigh of relief as he sagged against Harry.

Then Kingsley began to laugh at his Junior Aurors. 

“You can give up the charade and get some rest before you come back to the Ministry in the morning to file your reports. I must say, I admire your dedication. Continuing the illusion that you were gay even after returning home is really going above and beyond." Kingsley’s voice had taken on a jovial tone. “By the way … nice arse, Harry.”

The Minister’s head disappeared from the fireplace with a pop.

“I swear, Ron, I’m going to bloody well kill Kingsley!” Harry looked at Ron, and they both burst into happy laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I truly hope you've enjoyed my work, and I'd really love to know what you think. If you have a moment to spare, please leave a comment. Compliments are always welcome, but constructive feedback is appreciated as well.


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